by K. D. Worth
Heather smiled. “Good. I mean, I’ll miss having a partner. This job is more fun when you don’t have to do it alone. You’re lucky to have him.”
Her statement took me by surprise, or maybe the sudden wash of sadness rolling off her startled me. “Thanks.” I hesitated, then asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, why?”
“I don’t know.”
She studied me for a moment, and I did the same to her. She just seemed… off.
“Well, no, I guess it isn’t okay,” she finally said. “I broke up with Tristen.”
My jaw dropped. “You did? Why? What happened?”
She looked away as she chewed her lower lip.
“Never mind,” I insisted. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. It’s none of my business.”
She sighed heavily and brushed her long blonde hair off her shoulder. “No, it’s okay. I haven’t told anybody yet. I just don’t wanna deal with explaining why to everybody. It’s nobody’s business.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“It’s fine. I can tell you.” She pursed her pink-glossed lips and exhaled sharply through her nose, as if psyching herself up. “It’s just that all Tristen thinks about is sex. I’m sick of it.”
“Oh,” I said, startled. “Was he pressuring you?”
She threw up her arms. “Everyone’s been pressuring me my whole life. When I was alive, all my friends had done it. They kept telling me that if I didn’t, then all the guys would think I was a prude and that I’d never get a boyfriend. But I want to be a virgin when I get married. I know it’s old-fashioned.” She shook her head, as if scolding herself. “You probably think I’m stupid.”
“No, I don’t,” I assured her. “There’s nothing wrong with saving yourself for marriage.”
“My friend Hayley used to tell me to take the poop hole loophole.”
“The what?”
“The poop hole loophole,” she repeated, eyes widening as if I should know. “If you only do it in the butt, you’re still a virgin.”
I didn’t know if I was shocked or amused. “Is that a thing?”
“Sure,” she assured me. “For lots of girls.”
“I don’t think it’s true.” I frowned.
“That’s what I told her. I said if that were true, then gay guys were all virgins. I told her she was dumb, and she called me an uptight church girl. And that’s what Tristen said. That I was too uptight.”
Max and I hadn’t gone all the way yet, but we sure enjoyed what our hands and mouths could do. Together we’d decided we weren’t virgins because hetero definitions of sex and virginity didn’t apply to us.
Not wanting to talk about the details of our sex life, however, I offered, “Tristen shouldn’t pressure you.”
“I know, that’s why I ended things,” she said. “He’s all upset and depressed now. But he just doesn’t get it. Boys never do. All guys think about is sex. I mean, look at you and Max.”
I flinched. “What about us?”
“You guys are always doing it.”
Hot waves of embarrassment flushed my face and spilled down my back, but I managed to spit out, “W-why would you think that?”
She studied my face and quickly put a reassuring hand on my arm. “Don’t look like that. Nobody’s laughing at you guys. But you share a bedroom with one bed. We’re not stupid.”
When I’d first arrived on the team, Slade had not allowed Max and me to be alone, doing everything in his power, both covert and obvious, to keep it that way. We’d managed one glorious romantic night together in a beautiful pavilion in Alaska that Meegan had created for us. But we weren’t stupid. Slade doubtless knew about it. That’s why we assumed that night had been a one-shot deal.
But after Meegan moved on, Slade had not resumed his strict “doors open at all times” policy. Maybe because Max had been catatonic in his grief, and Slade knew being together refueled us both. So far, Slade had made no move to oust me from Max’s room.
I couldn’t deny how happy that made me, being able to be alone and intimate with Max—physically, yes, but more importantly, mentally and emotionally.
But the idea that everyone knew Max and I were intimate, and were possibly talking about us, mortified me. No one had teased us, because Max was in mourning, yet they all knew what we were more than likely doing at night—and what we were doing never got old.
But that was private.
I didn’t think Heather was judging me, but hearing her casually mention how everyone knew was so embarrassing!
“I guess it’s easier for you and Max, being both boys. Guys are always horny and when they score”—she did air quotes—“they’re cool. But with girls it’s different. If we put out, we’re sluts. If we don’t, we’re prudes. It’s like damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” She looked at me and shook her head. “Never mind. You’re a guy. You just wouldn’t get it.”
“Actually,” I said, fighting down my embarrassment to help my friend. “There’s a stigma like that with gay guys too.”
Her brows rose. “Really?”
“Yeah, guys who… you know?” I cleared my throat, face fully on fire now. “Um… bottom a lot, they’re looked at like they’re dirty or sluts, but if a guy tops a lot, then he’s manly and cool.” I hadn’t experienced much of the gay world, but I’d picked up a few unpleasant details on different apps and the handful of times I went to Koko’s, the gay bar near Union College.
Heather studied me in confusion. “Tops and… bottoms?” Then her face lit up, eyes wide and lips in an O of understanding. “Ohh, I get it. Bottoms.”
I squirmed. Now that she realized what I meant, was she trying to figure out who did what in my and Max’s relationship? I didn’t think she would, but I knew how inventive my own imagination could be.
Best not to think about it or I’d really die of humiliation.
“I guess you do get it, then,” she said crossing her arms and shaking her head. “It’s not fair, right? Why is everybody so quick to judge and point fingers at everyone? What people do or don’t do is none of anybody’s business.”
And then I felt suddenly relieved, my embarrassment lessening. Heather wasn’t like the brothers at Camp Purity, wanting to hear all my intimate thoughts and details. She was just my friend, going through personal stuff that all of us kids struggled with every day. And I was ever so grateful she’d confided in me.
I touched her arm. “No, it isn’t fair. Life would be easier if everyone respected one another’s differences and their privacy. Apparently the afterlife isn’t all that different.”
“Word,” she said, raising her fist for a bump, which I returned with a smile. “And like I told Tristen, he can think I’m a prude all he wants. I’m done. And I don’t know if reapers can even get married, but I’m gonna be a virgin if I do.”
Smiling, I gave Heather a tight hug. “Good for you.”
Heather squeezed me back, and I could feel my love for her, my philia—the Greek word for brotherly love—and hers for me in return. Having lacked it for so long, I understood the value of true friendship and support. I’d found the best forms of it with Max and my new reaper friends. Remembering how I’d pushed the strength of my love into my sister, I offered the same energy to Heather. Rather than the way the spirits drained me, when I pulled back from her—my genuine friend—I felt revived.
“And I think we could get married if we wanted,” I told her, wondering if Max would ever want that.
Her face brightened, and she cocked her head to the side, staring up at me. “You think so?” She definitely seemed to be in a happier place than a moment ago.
Shrugging, I rubbed her arms, not really stepping out of the hug. “Sure. Why not? We’re still the same people on the inside that we were when we died. We still want the same things.”
Hadn’t Max said as much to me that first night, when I’d been so broken, wanting to escape my problems in death? And hadn’t all those problems followed me
anyways?
Max always did have a powerful intuition.
“I want to wear white and mean it,” Heather insisted.
“Well, if Tristen doesn’t respect that, then you made the right decision.”
“Thanks.” She stepped out of my hug. “Well, anyways, I gotta meet Slade soon, but I wanna check on my Sims.” She was obsessed with that old computer game.
“What kinda training are you doing with him?”
Her grin widened. “Swordsmanship.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Like whatever is coming, I can be your first line of defense.”
Unfortunately, I already knew what was coming.
“Later, Kods,” she said, waving cheerily before she teleported away.
I smiled back. “Later.”
War was coming.
The cold October night in the human realm when Max and I first met—him my reaper and me his charge—a wraith possessing a dead human’s body told him a war was coming. Slade had never refuted that, and now he was spending individual time with each of the reapers, preparing all of us for more than a spiritual fight against apathy, but literal battle.
Swords? Seriously?
Each of us reapers was a loner in one way or another, both in our living lives and this one. Perhaps that was an important trait when chosen for the job. But we needed to start changing that and work together.
When Slade and I had been at the pond, he explained a prophecy given to the archangels about a healer and a protector—the pair destined to heal the lack of faith in the world.
I’m the healer and Max is the protector.
Translation?
I’m supposed to take the recently dead and the shades to heaven, while Max uses his light power to protect us from wraiths.
We still had no idea how to do that.
Or if I could physically survive it.
Deep in thought, I headed to the room Max and I shared to see if he had returned from his lesson with Slade.
A meow sounded at my feet.
Smiling, I leaned down and picked up our fluffy orange house cat, Herman. “Hey, kitty, kitty.”
Herman purred like a motor and I settled him over my shoulder like a baby. As I walked I petted his soft fur, lost in thought.
Somehow knowing Heather and Max would have my back whenever I began to fulfill this “higher purpose” made me feel more confident. Though strange to be the subject of prophecy—and I often wondered if prophecies were self-fulfilling, like Dumbledore told Harry Potter—it also felt right.
After all, Max had been protecting me since the instant we met. Saving me from suicide, from wraiths, and fueling me with the warm light he created from deep within.
While Cindy hadn’t drained me too much—I’d really concentrated on cultivating the agape love this time—I didn’t know if I’d ever have the strength to help shades get to heaven, let alone face another wraith.
But knowing Max had always been there, would always be there for me, made anything seem possible.
MAX—Chapter 2
“SO YOU think you’re ready to go back out on assignment, Max.”
“Totally ready,” I replied, itching with anticipation. I’d told Slade this several times, but in his “infinite wisdom,” he said we needed another private lesson first. Because this was all for Kody, I hadn’t complained—too much.
Wise gray eyes studied my face, and I tried not to squirm under their all-knowing power. I knew what Slade really was—an archangel of death who got all his orders directly from God. Slade was also my boss, and maybe after all these years reaping souls for him, my friend.
“Maybe?” Slade repeated.
Oh yeah, and he could read thoughts.
Rather than dwell on that, I glanced out the open doors to the expanse of great craggy snowcapped mountains. Situated high on a snowy mountainside, with no visible access points except via Slade’s magic, the temple was constructed of bamboo and rice-paper walls with cherry blossom silhouettes painted here and there. Despite the chilly breeze—reapers were naturally cold anyway—it was comfortable and inviting inside. Even if I did have to wear pajamas that Slade called a gi.
I didn’t know if this temple was a real place or one Slade conjured.
Slade had brought me here before to work on harnessing the protective power within me—a love-based light power that created force fields, shot blasts, and refueled my boyfriend’s energy. I was pretty good at the latter, decent at the second, and still shocked by the first.
Life, or the afterlife more accurately, was definitely ever changing and never boring.
But in answer to Slade’s question, was I ready to go back out into the world and reap souls?
Yes.
Was I over losing my best friend?
I couldn’t say.
So I remained quiet and fingered the ring on my right-hand pinky—Meegan’s now cold opal ring three fingers away from my warm opal ring.
“How are you feeling these days?” Slade asked.
I shrugged. “I’m as fine as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
When I looked up, Slade’s gaze was full of genuine concern.
Though I was happy on one hand Kody’s sister had received a second chance at life, it had come at a cost.
I lost my best friend—Meegan.
The hole in my heart had not closed, so I could not lie to Slade. “I still miss her.”
Slade’s face softened with sympathy. “You always will miss her. Are you still angry at her?”
I shrugged again, jutting my lip out and twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “A little bit.” I could feel those gray eyes examining me. “I still wish she would’ve told me.”
Slade sighed, his thick blond hair—shaggy and perpetually in need of a trim—moving in the soft breeze coming in from the mountains. “Max, you and Kody were going through a lot of turmoil, and Meegan didn’t want to burden you. When the opportunity presented itself, she knew it was her time.”
Nodding, I knew his words were true, and Meegan never meant to hurt me. Knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less, though.
“And you think you’re ready to go back out in the field, Max?” Slade repeated.
“Yes.” I couldn’t wait to get our afterlives back to normal—as normal as Kody’s and mine could be, that is.
I’d taken some time off after Meegan left to get my head together. Kody had continued to go out on assignment with our fellow reapers, mostly with Heather. I’d wallowed enough and wanted to be—no, I needed to be at Kody’s side and keep him safe so he could fulfill his purpose and help the shades to heaven.
And eventually the wraiths too.
Wasn’t sure I liked that last part.
No, I fucking hated it.
Life had been crazy since I’d met Kody. Crazy good in some ways—like being alone in our room together. I flushed from head to toe, warmth shimmering inside me. But I quickly changed my thoughts before Slade could see any of our alone time. Granted, I knew Slade didn’t feel sexual desires. He’d explained that to me when I’d been unreasonably jealous of his friendship with Kody. But he still didn’t need to see any secret thoughts or moments Kody and I shared.
“I have to warn you, Max, things are going to move even faster from now on.”
“Faster?” I repeated in disbelief. Would there be time for me to understand how to harness my powers?
As bored as I had been when Slade made me write lines on an old-fashioned chalkboard—“I will never disobey the rules of being a reaper” eleven thousand times—I longed for those calm days at the dorm when all I had to do was get up in the morning and bring Kody a kiss and a coffee from Cup of Moe’s, a place he’d loved when he’d been alive. Then we’d spend our days with me teaching him everything I knew about being a reaper and finding secret places in the library to steal a kiss. For those short months, our only worry was whether or not I left chalk handprints anywhere less than PG on Kody.
Ah, the good old d
ays.
Slade wore a somber expression. “Things have escalated, Max. While Kody’s been in the human realm, I’ve been observing what happens during his crossovers, and I’ve learned something interesting.”
Was Slade actually going to tell me something for once?
Shocker.
“Wiseass,” Slade said to me in a mental aside. “But listen, this is important. Every time Kody has been out, the shades have found him.”
“Are you serious?” I whispered, too stunned to come up with a snarky remark. Why hadn’t Kody told me?
“Because he didn’t know.”
I let out a breath, pleased Kody hadn’t kept another secret from me. We had a bad track record with that. Like me with my jealousy, or Kody sneaking into the human realm to watch his family, and biggest of all? How during all crossovers—whether he delivered the Touch or not—the spirits drained Kody’s energy. I should’ve seen it happening, and was still angry at myself for being too caught up in my research about wraiths and shades to notice.
Thankfully, our unique connection refueled what the spirits took from him, even reviving him when he felt down about life. And surprisingly, the more energy Kody took from me, the stronger I felt too. But keeping secrets from each other had caused us nothing but problems.
We were trying our darndest not to do that anymore.
“Doesn’t his bracelet help keep the shades away?” I asked, touching my black obsidian, one of two Slade had gifted Kody and me with in Paris when he first explained how shades were searching for Kody. Slade claimed the stone could help ward off evil, much like our opal rings channeled God’s holy spirit. Seeing as the bracelets had been cold at first, then heated up instantly with power and magically shrunk to fit our left wrists, I tended to believe him.
It was amazing how many things in nature could conduct magic.
I’d assumed the obsidian would’ve kept evil from finding Kody.
“Shades aren’t evil, Max,” he told me and I scowled because he’d been listening in on my thoughts again. “The bracelet will impede the wraiths for a time, but remember, it’s not a guarantee either, just an aid.”